


Thank you for the repeating feelings (I get so worried about stopping; I lose control)

by Eufry



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: So is Felicity's apartment, Windows are Oliver's thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-14 10:29:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2188374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eufry/pseuds/Eufry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver really <i>does</i> have a thing for windows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thank you for the repeating feelings (I get so worried about stopping; I lose control)

**Author's Note:**

> Despite my current hiatus until my final exam (Tuesday), dumping this here while on study break! Everyone should thank [justscribbling](http://archiveofourown.org/users/justscribbling/pseuds/justscribbling) and go read her amazing fics because she's the reason I'm trying to keep up with my writing :)
> 
> A huge (huge) thanks to [Rikke_leonhart](http://archiveofourown.org/users/rikke_leonhart/pseuds/Rikke_Leonhart) for holding my hand through this and not hating it and also her usual awesome. Also betaing. Mainly her overall flawlessness. Special mention to Ishi for being super supportive and kind even though she doesn't watch the show. You guys rock <3
> 
> Title from the song [Super Fresh by Arashi](http://www.letv.com/ptv/vplay/1980840.html) \- translation from [taijiproject.](http://taijiproject.livejournal.com/114603.html)
> 
> Enjoy!

If Felicity had known better, she would have made sure to turn off her phone for the night. Or at least put it on silent.

If she had known better, she would have dropped her tablet on her bed and then locked herself in her bathroom to enjoy a well-deserved hot shower that would most likely include a few pop songs from the 80s.

Or maybe she would have just crashed on her couch and breathed for a few minutes after the 40+ hours of hell the past two days had been.

The problem is, she hasn’t. Her brain is still in foundry mode, reviewing the night’s progress with what she refers to as her Arrow Network. She hopes Oliver will get some sleep at some point - although she doesn’t think that’s very likely. She lets out a sigh at the thought of a grumbling Oliver at his CEO desk the next morning.

Nope, she won’t bring him coffee. Not even if he begged her on his two knees. Which he would, it’s not like he would beg her on one, that would be weird.

Focus, Felicity.

Her phone rings, loud and shrilly, and she lets out a groan as she picks up. “Oliver?”

"Felicity, are you home?" His Arrow voice rings deep, urgent and rushed.

She blinks, “Yeah, I just got there, why, is there something wr—” she frowns as she hears a loud metallic crash outside, and half a second later it echoes through her cellphone. She frowns, and just as she gets up from her couch, she lets out a shriek as one of her living room windows bursts into shards.

She quickly crouches behind her sofa, and hears a thud followed by a low hiss. Letting out a slow breath, she quickly looks around - the hallway and front door is behind her, but she has no idea who or what has just crashed in the middle of her living room and she figures she should at least check before running like a maniac towards the front door, her left shoe in hand to be used as a makeshift weapon if need be.

These are killer heels, okay.

(She commands herself for her ability to make puns in such a situation.)

She slowly raises her head and peeks above the sofa - only to let out yet another high pitched shriek and trip her way to where Oliver, hooded up, is lying on the floor, writhing in pain. “Oliver!” she kneels down, and winces after realising a second too late her knees are now impaled by tiny shards of glass. She shakes her head once and leans over his figure, noticing one of his gloved hands clutching his side.

Of course, of course Oliver Queen would find a way to bleed out to death in the middle of her living room on a Friday night. Totally normal situation.

"Are you ok?!" She asks, slowly pulling back his hood with one hand, the other cradling his elbow.

He grunts, then nods once, sharply. “Felicity.” His voice falters, and he takes one quick look around him before focusing his eyes back on to hers. “I need you to turn off the lights.” He half groans, half whispers, and she quickly nods, realising her mouth’s been agape all this time, and quickly closes it, biting on her lower lip as she rushes to the switch.

"Oliver, what is going on?" She whispers, quickly crouching back down as she takes her place back to his side. He shushes her by placing a finger in front of his lips, tilting his head slowly to listen.

She has no idea what he is listening to. All she can hear iss traffic noise, and she feels her entire body shiver as the wind picks up. She swallows thickly, suddenly afraid of an unknown impending danger, and she feeks more than sees Oliver shift as he leans on an elbow in order to catch her gaze.

Only then does she realise a tear has fallen down her cheek and she has no idea why.

After what feels like an eternity, Oliver exhales quietly and speaks up. “Sorry about your window.” He whispers, then grimaces.

She doesn’t register her movements until she’s back from her bathroom with her first aid kit in hand, and she hears herself say “Well if you could explain why you felt the need to shatter my living room window in the middle of January, maybe I’ll gladly accept that apology.”

She mentally facepalms at her ability to be comforting and warm to an injured person. There is a reason she works with hardware over 12 hours per day.

Oliver almost chuckles, but winces before he can actually let out a sound.

"I was being chased. Not sure who it was, but apparently," he removes his hand from his side, and Felicity’s jaw drops slightly at the large, bloody gash oozing rapidly on her floor. "knives are trendy." He breathes out, and Felicity is quick enough to grab one of her couch pillows and slip it under his head before it falls back onto the floor. He murmurs a thank you as she starts unzipping his hood with his help, and before long she’s hands deep in 90% alcohol and gauze, and she wonders yet again how the hell she’s ended up playing doctor with a billionaire turned vigilante on a Friday night.

She wipes her forehead and notices a few strands of hair are stuck to it. Great. Now she’s sweating. She looks down and sees that her skirt is very possibly ruined, what with the dark red smeared all over its floral print. Oliver, who has been silent until now, follows her gaze and pausesd when it arrives on her knees.

"Are you alright?" He asks, voice soft, and Felicity sighs. He purses his lips and looks down, remorse evident on his features. "You’re not always this quiet." He says, even though it’s obvious it’s not what he wants to say.

Felicity is dressing his wound, and she feels her knees sting, feels dried tear tracks on her face, sweat and blood smeared across her fingers and forearms. She feels her glasses slipping down her nose and the smell of the alcohol is making her eyes sting. No, she is not okay.

Oliver isn’t either, though. So she just shrugs and when she’s done she sits up and looks at him, and she hasn’t felt this tired, ever.

"I think you might need stitches sooner than later." She says, and doesn’t even care that her voice is shaky. "And by might I mean definitely. I’ll call Diggle." She reaches for her cellphone and feels him move, and he’s too quick - of course he is - so she doesn’t even try to move away from the hand that falls on her shoulder gently.

"I’ll have your window replaced first thing tomorrow." She nods slowly, and manages a purse of her lips instead of a smile. When she looks up, she almost can’t stand how intense his eyes are on her.

"I’m sorry." He says again, and she shakes her head, this time managing to let one side of her mouth curl up.

"Well, I don’t think you can help yourself. Dig is right when he says you have a thing with windows.”

She hears a real chuckle, this time, and it rings out loud and clear. She forgets why she was sad in the first place, she forgets about the constant fear of injuries and death, she forgets about how sad he seems when he looks at her, she forgets how her knees hurt and how cold she is except where his hand is still cradling her shoulder and slightly moving down her arm.

She forgets all of that because the bigger picture is right in front of her. “Come on, let’s try to make you a functional Robin Hood again.” She says as she gets up and gives him a hand to help him up, and she thinks she should be offended by his cocked eyebrow at the proposition - she has strength, just not as much as her two yeti partners - but then the corners of his mouth are turned up and he gets up with annoying ease for someone with a hole in his side.

"I am not any type of Robin Hood.” He grumbles, and she thinks it might just be short of cute that he gets vexed by that.

"Maybe not, but you are kind of foxy.” She smiles at her pun and then closes her eyes because she did not just say that.

Oliver just shakes his head and she’s pleased to discover he has dimples when he smiles.


End file.
